


Waiting for His Ghost

by somegoldcanstay



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Death, First Love, Fix-It, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Quentin dies and comes back, queliot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 09:12:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somegoldcanstay/pseuds/somegoldcanstay
Summary: Eliot visits the monument of Rupert Chatwin to pay his respects and gets to have a conversation with his ghost.





	Waiting for His Ghost

Eliot stood next to the grave of Rupert Chatwin. Rupert was Quentin's favorite Chatwin. He once spent forty-five minutes listening to Quentin talk about what a great king Rupert was and how Quentin thought Rupert would be proud of Eliot's efforts.

  
Eliot stared at the name on the large stone. Fen had shown him where the monument was, and he had taken the day off to visit it. He felt he had to do this.

  
"Quentin told me you were gay,” Eliot said, sadly. “I guess Fillory is used to having queer kings, just like England. I wish you could have lived a full life, happily with your boyfriend. You two could have ruled Fillory together. Been the benevolent power couple we all knew you could be."

  
Talking to the headstone was pointless, yet Eliot wanted to connect with this tortured soul. He stared at the headstone until the sun started to set. Then, as he was about to leave, Eliot was suddenly pulled into a ghost loop-- this one less depressing and less horrible than the last one he found himself in, thankfully.

  
Rupert Chatwin was laughing with his cute, blonde American boy. Eliot watched them running around, peeking out from behind a tree. He saw the boy football-tackle Rupert to the ground.

  
"I wish we could stay here forever," said Lance Morrison. He stroked Rupert's face.

  
Eliot recognized that look on Rupert's face: a sappy, hopeful, completely besotted, swept away by the throes of first love, sort of expression.

  
He had felt that, experienced that. With Mike, and with Quentin. He ached for Quentin, back on Earth. He was so far away, but he was alive. Not yet ready to return to Fillory, but alive.

  
The boys in the ghost loop were kissing tenderly, and Eliot felt like an intruder, but he couldn't look away. They were so happy.

  
The loop changed. A darkness manifested that made his heart sink into his stomach. Rupert threw a glass bottle, probably wine, at the tree. He let out a loud scream that shook the very essence of time, and rattled Eliot to the core.

  
"I wish I could tell you it gets easier," Eliot said, reaching out a hand. He could touch the ghost.

  
"I feel like someone pulled out my heart and destroyed it," Rupert said. "They told me Lance killed himself. He would _never_. We were _happy_."

  
"Quentin… Quentin did that. He was always putting others first, and it cost him his life."

  
"Was he…your heart?"

  
Eliot liked that. He nodded.

  
"He still is."

  
He could tell by the furrowed brows that Rupert didn't follow. Eliot cast a spell, and Rupert somehow understood that Eliot had found a magical solution.

  
"You're a magician, the same as Lance."

  
"Yes. I went to Brakebills."

  
Rupert sat on the ground. Eliot sat beside him even though it would get his clothes dirty and Rafe would slaughter him for ruining more clothes.

  
"How did you get him back?"

  
"I fought a god, again. My friends and I have some experience at god-fighting."

  
Eliot saw a single tear slide down Rupert's cheek. He reminded him of Quentin, after Eliot had refused him.

  
"I absolutely cannot continue to live without him," Rupert choked.

  
Eliot had never seen a ghost cry, but it must have happened because it was in the loop. Eliot patted his shoulder _. Is this how Rupert died? Oh God_.

  
"What about your family? Your kingdom?"

  
_You're talking to someone who died seventy years ago._

  
"Jane," said Rupert, and the word triggered a change in the loop. Suddenly, Eliot was in Whitespire, in what he recognized as Quentin's room. _That's why Quentin chose it: it belonged to Rupert._ Jane stood beside the bed.

  
"You have to get out of this bed. You've been sulking for a month."

 

Rupert rolled away from her and pulled his blanket over his head. _Honestly, mood_.

  
"I'm sorry your American friend died."

  
Rupert peeked his head out from the blanket and glared at her. If looks could kill her head would have exploded.

  
"He wasn't just a friend, Jane. I can't possibly expect you to understand."

  
"I suppose not. But please get out of bed before Ember and Umber banish you for being too dull, I need one of my brothers to stay in Fillory."

  
Eliot shuddered involuntarily at the mention of Martin Chatwin. It wasn't necessarily his fault he became what he was. He experienced quite a bit of trauma. Eliot couldn't possibly imagine the horrors all those kids faced.

  
"Get up, Rupert."

Jane sat on her brother's bed. Rupert sniffled and pulled the blanket over his head, covering himself completely. He burrowed far under them, hugging his knees and sobbing. He could feel Jane gently tap his backside.

  
"Leave me alone, Jane."

  
"You were in love with him, weren't you? I will pretend I don't know if you prefer. I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to hide. Not here. Not in Fillory."

  
Eliot stared. _How could she possibly know?_ When the memory faded, Rupert was tossing a rock on the ground between them. Eliot touched his hand and gave it a squeeze.

  
"I admire my sister. She was always so innocent. I hope she lived a full and happy life."

  
"You deserved that, you know?" Said Eliot, patting Rupert's hand. "You and Lance should have grown old together."

  
"It was impossible. Even in Fillory."

  
Eliot changed position so he was leaning back, propping himself up on his elbows and looking at Rupert's adorable profile.

  
"Quentin and I lived here in Fillory for fifty years, in the past. We got married, and had a son. It was the beauty of all life."

  
Rupert gaped at him.

  
"Married? You could marry a man?"

He giggled like it was a funny joke, until he realized it wasn't. Slowly, his expression changed back to sorrow.

  
"Yes. In my world, Quentin and I could get married."

  
"Are you...are you going to? Going to marry him?"

  
"If...if he'll have me, yes."

  
That seemed to cheer Rupert Chatwin's ghost, even if it wouldn't last. The loop would reset as if the conversation never happened. Still, Eliot felt a lightness in chest afterwards.

  
The final ghost loop was a memory of Rupert and Lance against the tree, whispering and laughing and breathless. Two boys, together, and happy and in love and kissing like it was a secret between them. They had stars in their eyes, focused only on each other.

  
It was a lovely memory to let Rupert linger in for a while; he knew where it led, and that felt private, so he walked away. Eliot took one last look at Rupert's monument. _Maybe I'll bring him flowers, next time I visit._ He heard a faint giggle as he walked away.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, allegria23 for editing for me. You're the greatest. 
> 
> I really wanted to treat Rupert and Lance with the respect they deserved. I hope I accomplished that.


End file.
